


Calling

by Singing_Violin



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singing_Violin/pseuds/Singing_Violin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during Season 1. Captain Janeway's sleep-deprived, but why? And can Commander Chakotay help?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calling

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Star Trek characters and universe are not mine.

After the staff meeting, Chakotay lingered behind as the captain stood facing the viewport. Unaware of her company, she raised a hand to her forehead and slumped slightly.

Concerned, the commander stepped towards her and reached out to lightly tap her shoulder. She jumped, straightened, and spun around, fire in her eyes. She pursed her lips, but did not speak.

He hesitated, knowing that the wrong word could ruin his chances at finding out what he needed to know.

"Captain," he began, carefully assessing her reaction. "I didn't mean to startle you. Are you all right?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Of course, Commander," she replied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He breathed in, the stale starship air catching fire within him and fueling his courage. "As the ship's unofficial counselor…" he started.

She cut him off. "Oh, cut the crap, Chakotay. What's on your mind?"

He sighed. "You've seemed a bit on edge the last few days," he admitted, "and it's rubbing off on the crew. B'Elanna broke an ensign's wrist yesterday, and…"

Interrupting again, she responded angrily. "B'Elanna? Send her to me. I'll take care of it."

He waved an arm. "That's not it. The kid is fine; it was an accident."

"She's on report," Janeway snapped. "She should have known better."

Exasperated, he clenched his fists, attempting not to raise his voice. "I said it was an accident. You and I both know we can't afford to discipline her formally right now; it would destroy the crew."

She stared, silently daring him to continue.

"There _is_ a problem aboard this ship right now, Captain, and you're the only one who knows what it is. I'm asking – as your first officer, as your unofficial counselor, and," he hesitated again, unsure of how much to admit, "as your friend, to change that. Let me know what's wrong. If I can, I'd like to help."

An awkward silence descended upon them. Finally, she spoke. "Will that be all, Commander?"

He nodded, not really expecting an answer, but hoping she might open up, just a little. To say that the captain's job was isolating would be an understatement, and he knew for a fact she hadn't consulted her spirit guide since he'd introduced her to it, hadn't visited the holodeck recently, and hadn't confided in any member of the crew. Underneath her authoritative exterior, she was human, and the slight crack in her voice – that he prayed he was the only one who noticed as she gave her orders during the meeting – betrayed her slowly weakening resolve. It was only a matter of time before the lack of a confidante aboard the ship would destroy her completely.

Chakotay hoped she would realize this and choose someone – anyone – even a holodeck character, if need be – to talk to. To be honest, he hoped she would choose him. But whether that was because he felt his skills as a counselor exceeded those of her other choices, or because his latent attraction towards his captain – quite troubling until he had learned to accept and internalize it – led him to attempt any excuse to see her in private as often as possible – he did not want to assess. The first priority was to bring her back into balance before she self-destructed, dragging with her the rest of the ship.

"I said you were dismissed, Commander," the captain repeated, and his face flushed, realizing that, lost in thought, he had missed the order.

"Aye, Captain," he replied, and turned to leave, disappointed.

It was 0237 when his communicator beeped.

"Commander, did I wake you?" asked a voice that seemed too impossibly small and meek to belong to his commanding officer.

"It's no trouble," he answered honestly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Is there a problem?"

"No – I mean, yes. I guess. I, uh – would you mind coming to my quarters?"

"I'll be right there," he responded immediately.

His heart wavered between dread and elation as he observed her admittedly frazzled condition as she opened the door to admit him. He resisted the urge to charge towards her and sweep her into his arms, instead standing at attention, awaiting orders.

She looked up at him questioningly, then motioned with her arm towards the couch.

"Sit, please, Commander. We're off-duty."

He gulped, but did as she bade. She, however, remained standing, her momentary fragility melting away with every second, finally seeming but a distant figment of his imagination. He waited.

At last, she spoke, her voice again imbued with the commanding edge to which he'd grown accustomed and somewhat attached. "I've been thinking about what you said," she told him. "As you have probably guessed, I haven't been sleeping much lately – there's been so much work to do. Of course, I don't want to ruin the morale of the crew. And I am aware that sleep-deprivation can cause irritability."

She paused before continuing. "Tell me, Chakotay: what do you think I should do?"

He blinked, unsure of what she was asking of him. "Well, for starters," he tried, "I think you should talk to someone."

"I'm talking to you," she countered. "And I'm asking your advice."

"You could consult your spirit guide," he offered.

"No," she refused. "That was an interesting experience; thank you for that. But I'm afraid that it's not a long-term solution."

"What are you suggesting, then?" he asked, searching her face for clues.

She shrugged. "I'm not sure," she admitted.

He steeled himself. "Why don't you start by telling me what brought you to call me at nearly oh-three-hundred."

Her eyes went wide, and her hand went to her mouth. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "I did wake you. I'm very sorry; I wasn't thinking, I…"

He rose, emboldened by her sudden change of demeanor. Gently, he grabbed her flailing arms and eased them back to her sides. He stared into her eyes and she looked up at him expectantly.

He thought he sensed fear, and his eyes were drawn towards her visibly pulsing carotid artery. Quickly, he dropped his own arms back to his sides. "I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, "I don't know what got into me, I…"

She looked at the floor. "No – it's my fault." Her eyes rose again. "I asked you here, Commander. I called you in the middle of the night. It was inappropriate. You should go."

"Captain," he dared. "I'm glad you called. I'm happy to help. But right now, you and I both know that what you need is sleep. If you have too much to do, please delegate. That's what I'm here for, officially even. If you are suffering from insomnia, then the doc can give you a sedative. If you don't want to go to Sickbay, I'll get it for you. And if you just need to talk – then call me anytime."

He held his breath, fearing he'd crossed the line, that she would be angered by his presumptuous offer. Again, his eyes were drawn to her neck as the rhythmic pulsing gradually slowed.

Slowly, a smile crept over her lips, and she chuckled softly. "Perhaps," she whispered, "that is all I needed to know."

Relieved, he allowed the air to escape from his lungs, the tension inside of him leaking out amid nitrogen and carbon dioxide.

He nodded and took his cue to leave. Just before the door opened, she reached towards him, stopping his exit with a light touch on his arm. He turned around to face her.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm glad…" Her voice trailed off.

"I know," he whispered back, then, impulsively, raised a hand and lightly caressed her cheek. She didn't resist, but, not wanting to press his luck, he broke eye contact and exited her quarters before she could stop him again.

As the door closed, she raised a hand to her face, unsuccessfully attempting to replace the lingering warmth of his touch.

"I'm glad you're there to answer my call at three in the morning," she told the empty room before undressing and slipping into her bed. She was asleep within minutes, and in her dreams, her XO's promise of support was fulfilled completely, and more…


End file.
